August 16, 2007

Restaurant Review: Wine Upstairs at Tribeca

After discovering a leak in the ceiling of our bedroom in the Dublin flat on Monday and subsequently having to spend the night on the floor in the kitchen, neither the Husband nor myself were in any particular hurry to get back there on Tuesday evening. Heavy rain plus no umbrella (the Husband) and flip flops (me) didn't help morale on our walk home so we decided to meet in Ranelagh and try out the recently opened wine bar - Wine Upstairs - over Tribeca. The restaurant is always buzzing, as it was last night, but, after we had shaken our bedraggled selves off, stashed my umbrella and walked up the stairs, we arrived in an airy room, with lots of tables, plenty of bottles of wine on display - and no other people. Stashing ourselves in the corner by the New Zealand wines, the Husband looked at wines while I devoted myself to a perusal of the short, but well formed, menu.

When we were in New Zealand just after Christmas, I came across a cookbook by Annabel Langbein called Assemble. Her idea is to select the best of ingredients so that meal preparation becomes a matter of assembly rather than preparation. That is exactly what the menu at Wine Upstairs does. It's not complex - platters of cheese (perfectly aged and sourced from Sheridan's Cheesemongers) and charcuterie (supplied by Fingal Ferguson of Gubbeen) sat alongside simple offerings of Ibérico ham with figs, pâtés, olives and last night's special - a Mediterranean fish stew. We started with a bottle of Rioja, a duck platter, which included well-flavoured rilettes and slices of duck "ham", and, unlike a recent experience in Olesya's Wine Bar, a generous plate of Irish cheeses, including Cashel Blue, my favourite Durrus and the memorable Mount Callan cheddar. These were served with walnuts, grapes, cornichons, pickled onions and charcoal crackers and an overflowing basket of bread - a good example of the assemble motto.

Although we were no longer the only refugees from the rain, as customers filled the tables around us and we were joined by the Tax Consultant, it wasn't enough to keep the waitress from refilling our glasses of water every time we took a sip. No complaints there from me, I'm always happy with a plentiful supply of water, although some may have found it intrusive. Another bottle of wine, a rather underwhelming French Pinot Noir, was added to the tally and we finished with a chocolate mousse and three spoons. The mousse was milk chocolate, so not as dark as I normally like, but it was lifted above the ordinary by a sprinkling of shredded fresh mint leaves on the cream it was topped with. It didn't last long.

A haven for us on a wet night, Wine Upstairs at Tribeca is a comfortable and relaxed place to have a bite to eat and a glass of wine. After a chilled out evening there, morale was much improved, we had (almost) dried out before we had to face the elements again and, best of all, when we got home the plumber had worked his magic on the ceiling so we could move back into the bedroom. Definitely worth checking out.

Wine Upstairs, TriBeCa, 65 Ranelagh, Dublin 6, 01 4974174.

Posted by Caroline at 7:32 AM | Comments (2)

July 16, 2007

Café La Serre, The Village at Lyons

Sitting on the N4 on Saturday night, watching the car temperature gage climb dangerously in the not-moving traffic and the clock moving much faster than we were able to, I was glad that I was heading off to dinner at Richard Corrigan's Café La Serre rather than continuing on with the crowds to Barbra Streisland's first Irish concert in Castletown House, near Celbridge. We were taking my American Cousin and her Fiancé for a long-awaited dinner in advance of their August wedding - we didn't realise that our trip to their Celbridge home was going to coincide with one of the flashiest traffic jams in years. Tickets, after all, were priced from €118.50 to €885!

After we had called the restaurant to let them know we would be late for our 8pm booking, we relaxed, kept our fingers crossed that the engine temperature wouldn't climb too far into the red, and started to play a game of Spot the Barbra Fan. That expensively-coiffed couple in the chauffer-driven Merc beside us? Definitely. The girl in the Mini, with the sound of Kings of Leon floating out her open windows? Perhaps not!

After more an hour-and-a-half crawling through traffic, we were delighted to turn out of the concert traffic and towards the Village at Lyons, picking up the AC and Fiancé en route. Our little red Fiesta was a little dwarfed by the giant gates which mark the entrance but fortunately the sensors recognised that there was a small waiting car and slowly swung open. The setting, all mature trees and beautifully restored buildings, is wonderful but we didn't have much time to appreciate it as we ran through the rain, searching for the discrete - in other words, we couldn't see any signs for it - entrance.

Finally settled at our seats in the large, airy Victorian conservatory on the side of the building, we were served with a generous basket of decent bread - our appetites had been greatly whetted by the delay in getting to dinner - and a little tub of whipped butter. A bottle of Domaine Bellevue Lugagnac Bordeaux (€35) set the stage as we ordered - for me, asparagus (€11.50) to start, followed by slow-cooked lamb, served with puréed potatoes and peas cooked French-style (€22.75). The asparagus, served in a little fan with some salad leaves and vinaigrette dressing, was a light opening for a main course that was more substantial than it looked. The lamb had been shredded, reassembled in moulds or ramekins and unmoulded on top of the creamy purée, with bacon-flecked peas and lettuce alongside. It was a satisfying dish, so much so that I didn't even 'help' the AC with her fish pie (€18.50). We were also presented with a simply dressed bowl of green salad to accompany our main courses but, unfortunately, this wasn't the freshest and, after picking through the leaves, most of it was left behind.

The other three in our group had deserts - a Crème Brûlée and Apricot Mouse were the ones chosen, with a rather long espresso for me. By this stage in the meal, night had fallen and the conservatory, only lit by the small candleholders on the tables, looked incredibly romantic. We lingered over tea and the last drops of wine, wondering why the huge fireplace at the back of the room was flanked by large bunches of vaguely communist-style garden implements that had been sprayed with plaster in the same neutral shade as the rest of the room.

Dinner for four, with four starters, four mains, three deserts, one espresso, three peppermint teas, one regular tea and a bottle of wine came to the grand total of €200.25. From the moment I rang to make the reservation, service was prompt and friendly and their relaxed attitude to our traffic delay was enormously helpful during a stressful trip there. We really weren't too badly off, though. To read another blogger's account of the traffic and the Barbra Streisand concert at Castletown take a wander over to Dermod's account of the evening at a bit of bonhomie.

Cafe La Serre in the Village at Lyons, Celbridge, Co Kildare, 01 6303500, www.villageatlyons.com

Posted by Caroline at 7:48 AM | Comments (5)

May 30, 2007

Oysters at The Shelbourne

Last night, Anne Kennedy of Greatfood.ie and I, in need of a glass of wine and some food, ended up - at her suggestion - at the newly decked out and recently reopened Shelbourne Bar in The Shelbourne on St Stephen's Green. My memories of the old Shelbourne, admittedly after a couple of dynamite martinis in the Horseshoe Bar in the depths of winter, was of a gradually-getting-shabbier, heavy-with-tradition place. A grand old dame of Dublin, it was long overdue a facelift - although perhaps not one that went hand in hand with an American hotel chain. The Shelbourne Bar, where we ended up, is now a comfortable, light, bright L-shaped room on the left as you enter the hotel.

As we entered, Anne, with unerring ability, steered our way to the only empty table in a busy bar. Menus weren't long in arriving but we didn't look too far after seeing the oysters on offer. We ordered two each of the four types on the menu (and I forgot to take note of their names!), at €2.50 a piece, along with a couple of glasses of viognier (€8). Two platters arrived, with the fresh, plump, grey oysters sitting on the half shell, on top of crushed ice and some decorative seaweed. A little dish of shallot-rich Mignotte Sauce was at the centre of each platter, with a few lemon segments on the side.

We had ordered the four different types of oysters in order to compare, contrast and decide on our favourites; unfortunately when they arrived the waitress did not know the difference between the varieties so I'm not sure whether I preferred the Clair or the Belon (at least I think that's what two of the oyster varieties were). Anne's oysters were no sooner on the table than they disappeared. Mine - this was only the third time I had the opportunity to eat oysters - took a little longer to be savoured and swallowed. The Mignotte was too vinegary to do anything but disguise their savoury brininess but we nibbled at it afterwards as the ice melted and we finished our glasses of wine.

For oysters and a glass of wine, the Horseshoe Bar is a wonderful, and not extortionate, treat - especially for me, as Anne picked up the tab - but I'm not sure if my bank balance would survive an entire night in such salubrious surroundings. Another place to get the freshest of oysters in Dublin, along with a glass of white wine and some brown bread (now that would make a nice addition to The Shelbourne's oyster platter), is at the Temple Bar Food Market - watch out for the stall with the stool by the Gallery of Photography on Meeting House Square on Saturdays.

The Horseshoe Bar at The Shelbourne, 27 St Stephen's Green, Dublin 2. Phone: 01 6634500

Posted by Caroline at 7:27 PM | Comments (6)

May 27, 2007

Restaurant Review: Olesya's Wine Bar

Wine, wine and more wine - if that's what you're looking for then the recently opened Olesya's Wine Bar on Dublin's Exchequer Street is the perfect place. With a long wine list, which includes choices from Georgia and the Lebanon alongside a good selection of new and old world wines, there's plenty to choose from, should you wish to imbibe by the glass or bottle.

The Boyfriend and I, in a tapas mood on Thursday night, and on the way to see if there were any seats in Havana, instead ended up in Olesya's. A menu which included blini and foie gras, alongside platters of cheese and more substantial dishes of risotto or sausages and mash, grabbed our attention outside the door and an empty table inside was quickly ours. Although a very comfortable size for food and wine, being larger than many tables for two, it does take some manoeuvring to negotiate the narrow gap between your and your neighbours' table. Intent on avoiding the wine glasses at the next table, I managed to wallop my head on a mirror hung on the facing wall, after which I quickly sat down and hid my blushes in the menu, ahem.

We chose Babich Pinot Noir (€26) - another favourite NZ wine - to accompany our pick and mix meal of Pâté French Style (€9.80) and a Farmhouse Platter (€17.95). The pâté was very good, three sizable scoops that were smooth and well-flavoured, served with a delicious red onion marmalade and salad leaves that included plenty of peppery rocket. It came with a basket of warm, crusty bread and didn't last too long. The Farmhouse Platter, alas, was a different story. Supposedly a selection of charcuterie and cheese, the cheese was represented by three small anonymous segments. The platter was filled up with salad, olives, walnuts, dried fruits, plenty of decent salami and good ham, but it has to be admitted, the cheese component was sadly lacking. Of course, being typically Irish - and starving at that stage - I didn't complain, the Pinot Noir and pâté combination successfully rubbing off any rough edges as we enjoyed the rest of the meal.

A couple of peppermint teas later, we had to run out the door and grab a taxi so that I could make it to my polling station in Rathmines - Thursday was voting day in Ireland - before 10.30pm. Fortunately I got there in time to exercise my constitutional right, for all the good it did. My verdict on Olesya's? Wine good, pâté great, charcuterie plentiful but - and it's a big but - the scanty cheese portions, especially for someone who loves cheese (currently reading Paul Gayler's A Passion for Cheese!), were a big stumbling block.

Dinner came to a total of €58.75 for a bottle of wine, pâté, the farmhouse platter and two teas.

Olesya's Wine Bar, 18 Exchequer Street, Dublin 2. Phone: 01 672 4087

Posted by Caroline at 4:30 PM | Comments (0)

April 6, 2007

Restaurant Review: The Old Convent - Part II

Continued from Restaurant Review: The Old Convent - Part I.

The fifth course - a palate-cleansing Organic Lemon and Ginger Sorbet - caused arguments. The Cousins, who are identical twins, thought that the ginger was more pronounced. The rest of us were definitely on the lemon side - as the wine kept flowing, we wondered if the world is divided into lemon-tasters and ginger-tasters.

Revived by the sorbet - and the discussion - we proceeded to another substantial course of Roast Loin of Veal, served with White Bean and Potato Gratin, Roasted Beets and Squash and Limonocello Butter. I'm not a big fan of veal, finding it to be a rather anonymous meat, and, for me, this was the most pedestrian course. Having said that, it was still a good dish and didn't go a-wasting on anyone's plate. I was suffering from near-satiety at that stage, and there were still two more courses to go.

We were just about to get on to the sweet courses when the waitress asked if any of us would be interested in a cheese plate (at an extra €10) to round off the meal. The Ex-Planner Partner wanted one - but refused to share! - so we ordered two, one for him and one for the rest of us. And then we proceeded to wade through a sweet Mango, White Chocolate and Tahitian Vanilla Mousse (the martini glasses made a reappearance here) and the grand finale, which truly lived up to its name. A pair of dark and very sinful chocolate fondues, suspended above flames to keep molten, arrived at our table, surrounded by chunks of banana, strawberries, little almond pyramids, petite chocolate brownies, coconut choc chip cookies and raspberry tartlets. That's when we started to wonder why we had ordered TWO cheese platters.

My attention and appetite were both fading at this stage, my scribblings completed, when Christine arrived at our table and started to tell us that her husband, chef Dermot, was relaxing online after finishing work when he came across a website that mentioned going out for dinner that very night at The Old Convent. Was there a table of six in the dining room? And was there a New Zealander at the table? We were rumbled! The fact that I had been taking (I thought) unobtrusive notes during the meal and photographing the menu may also have been a slight give away.

Our group - my companions highly amused that I had been unmasked - relaxed over the (at-that-stage unnecessary) cheese, served with thin crackers, caramelised pecans, fresh fruit and some preserves from the Trass Farm at Moorstown in Cahir (makers of our favourite Karmine Apple Juice). We made valiant attempts but just weren't up to it. Nine courses in and we had flagged, understandably enough! After we had settled our bill there was just time to check out the Goddess powder room, an attractive hideaway for a bit of nose powdering or lipstick refreshing, and to poke our heads into the cosy drawing room before our taxi arrived on the doorstep to take us back to Clonmel.

The Old Convent was the perfect place for a relaxed evening with friends and family - no rushing, racing or trying to speed people along so that a second sitting can be accommodated - and the six of us thoroughly enjoyed our experience of fine dining, Tipperary-style. If you don't want to run the risk of your taxi driver being too relaxed about getting there, it is also possible to stay at one of the seven recently renovated rooms upstairs. The Gannons cater for tailor-made romantic weekends and breakfasts, according to reviews, are well up to the standard of the meal that we enjoyed. A long walk in the nearby Knockmealdown Mountains may be the only antidote to this superb style of cosseting.

The Old Convent, Clogheen, Co Tipperary, 052 65565. www.theoldconvent.ie

Posted by Caroline at 10:44 AM | Comments (0)

April 4, 2007

Restaurant Review: The Old Convent - Part I

When you're going out for an eagerly anticipated eight-course meal at a restaurant in the middle of the Tipperary countryside it would be nice to turn up a little early, take some time to appreciate the setting and relax while perusing the wine list. In an ideal world. As it happened, ten minutes after we were supposed to arrive, the Boyfriend and I - plus my Clonmel-based and Dublin-based Cousins, accompanied by the Chilli-Intolerant Husband and the Ex-Planner Partner - were still chugging along in a Clonmel taxi that seemed to be in no hurry to get us to our destination. As we pulled up outside the imposing frontage of The Old Convent, just outside Clogheen, there was a mad scramble to pay, figure out when we should be collected and get out of the taxi but, as soon as we set foot on the black and white tiled floor of the elegant hallway, all stress was over. Calmly greeted and smoothly ushered to our table by proprietor Christine Gannon, we settled into an evening of superb food, wonderful wine and great service.

The Old Convent, a true gourmet hideaway, offers a deceptively simple service: an eight course tasting meal for just €50. As we settled into our seats in the candle-lit dining room, complete with stained glass windows from its former incarnation, we were presented with the wine list and our attention was directed to a framed menu on the table. Christine's husband, Dermot Gannon, is the chef and he places a decided emphasis on well-sourced ingredients - Ballybrado Organic Pork, Blakes Organic Chocolate, Ardsallagh, Crozier Blue and Gubbeen Chorizo all featured on the menu.

As we wondered how we were going to be able to eat our way from Ardsallagh Mac 'n Cheese with Gubbeen Chorizo, all the way to an Old Convent signature dish - a fondue made with Blakes's organic and fairtrade chocolate - the first course arrived on the table. Beautifully presented in martini glasses, a little scoop of macaroni cheese, made with diminutive pasta shapes, was topped with thin slices of Fingal Ferguson's savoury chorizo. Elegant and satisfying, the portion size also reassured us that we might yet manage to make it to the eighth course.

We continued with a Ballybrado Organic Pork Salad, the meat tender to the touch of a fork, accompanied by salad leaves, Crozier Blue cheese, poached pears, caramelised pecans and a dark, sweetly spiced dressing. This was a substantial portion but a slight breather, in the form of an espresso cup of creamy and delicious Vanilla Pea Velouté with Mint Oil followed. The fish course was next - layers of Steamed Salmon and Hake, sitting on a Pistachio and Saffron Risotto with a Dublin Bay Prawn Bisque. The notes I was scribbling start to get shorter and less detailed from this stage of the meal as I put my full attention to the dishes and the wine in front of me.

We had ordered bottles of Aotea Sauvignon Blanc 2006, purely because of its Nelson connection, and, on Christine's recommendation, Esencia Valdemar Rioja 2005. Neither bottle disappointed. Although I have been annoyed in the past by over-enthusiastic refilling of my wine glass, the well-trained staff at The Old Convent got the balance right between being attentive and merely trying to sell an extra bottle. In fact, two tiny incidents aside, the service was exemplary throughout, something that has become increasingly rare in my experience of restaurants in Ireland.

To be continued....

The Old Convent, Clogheen, Co Tipperary, 052 65565. www.theoldconvent.ie

Posted by Caroline at 7:02 PM | Comments (4)

March 9, 2007

Restaurant Review: Harry's Café Bar in Dún Laoghaire

Last night's Slow Food evening was the perfect introduction to Harry's Café Bar in Dún Laoghaire. Since reading about the Polish food on offer there, especially the pierogi (dumplings), this had been a long-anticipated - but never quite realised - trip. Although there was no sign of pierogi on the menu circulated with the email about the event, the mention of dishes such as Marinated Roast Beef (Pieczen Wolowa) and Roast Pork Shank (Golonka) were more than enough to convince me.

Although I was happy with my menu choices (Clear Chicken Soup (Rosol) and Beef Goulash (Gulasz wolowy)), they paled in comparison with the Boyfriend's choices - Herring in a Sour Cream Sauce (Sledz w smietanie) and Pan-Fried Trout (Pstrąg). The creamy dill sauce that accompanied the trout was good enough to be eaten on its own. My large helping of meaty, savoury Goulash arrived in a choux pastry basket with boiled buckwheat on the side (none of us in my corner could identify the grain - my memory was jogged by the menu this morning!) and a beetroot chutney. Large plates of multicoloured 'slaw were scattered around the large communal table so that everyone could help themselves although, given the size of the portions, no one could do enough justice to this extra food. Although almost replete, I still managed to share Beza, a light meringue topped with whipped cream and red berries, with my neighbour. At that stage the Boyfriend had called halt and, after one forkful, laid down his cutlery.

With plenty of good substantial food at great prices, Harry's Café Bar is well worth a trip to Dún Laoghaire. Just make sure you come with a solid appetite and definitely check out the fish dishes. Also a warning: walls pasted with letters to and from Ireland's legendary agony aunt, Dear Frankie, may lead to bathroom trips being prolonged.

Harry's Cafe Bar, 21 Upper Georges Street, Dún Laoghaire, Co Dublin, 01 2808337.

Posted by Caroline at 7:07 PM | Comments (0)

July 24, 2006

Restaurant Review: Mackerel, Dublin

Thursday was a searingly hot day in Dublin and, even come evening time, there was little respite from the heat in the city center. Sun-warmed crowds pooled outside bars and restaurants, Mediterranean-style. It was not an evening to be indoors so, when the Boyfriend and I arrived for a 7.30pm booking at Grafton Street fish restaurant Mackerel and spotted seats outside on the narrow balcony, we grabbed them as soon as we could hot-foot across the room.

Mackerel is located upstairs in the old Bewley's Café premises - now taken over by another branch of the becoming-ubiquitous Café Bar Deli - and it keeps to the dark-wood Bewley's template with smart green marble tables. The tiny outdoors area had just enough space for side-by-side seating on low stools, with a simple wooden shelf, just wide enough to hold the plates, as a table. But the main draw, apart from the light, refreshing breeze, was being able to almost invisibly observe the bustle of a busy Grafton Street.

A selection of good bread - slices of tomato and fennel, a dense brown bread and some seed and fruit loaf - arrived with the menus; a just-printed page of that day's catch and a regular menu of starters, desserts, cocktails and coffees. The Boyfriend was in fish-heaven, deliberating over sole, cod, organic salmon and John Dory. Eventually he decided on a Grilled Fillet of Plaice with Leek Sauce while I went for Grilled Whole Mackerel with a Chorizo Crust. A glass of crisp Manzanilla La Gitana with a bowl of plain olives served as a starter and then onwards to the fish end of thing.

One small problem: I had never had mackerel before and, minutes after my lovingly prepared piscine pal arrived in front of me, discovered that it wasn't really my thing. Fortunately, it was much more to the taste of the (long-suffering) Boyfriend so we swapped plates, he to deal with the small bones and rich flesh of the mackerel while I discovered that delicate plaice, and particularly its creamy accompanying sauce, more agreeable. A dish of vegetables - red onions, cherry tomatoes and potatoes, all roasted and served with some buttered new potatoes and deliciously crunchy green beans - and some extra bread served to mop up the juices. We were less adventurous on the wine side of things, choosing a French Sauvignon Blanc (Le Clou Cotes Du Duras, 2004) which was pleasant although nothing special.

Although it was a light meal, the wine and the heat kept us from ordering any deserts, despite the Boyfriend dallying over the menu and seriously considering their Chocolate Fudge Cake. I let him think while I trekked down two flights of stairs to the basement bathrooms which, annoyingly, had a woman sitting outside to direct customers to the appropriate area (what? Signs aren't enough any more?) with a tip jar placed prominently before her. This was unnecessary and annoying. There are many pubs around Dublin that I refuse to enter because of similar guardians and I wouldn't like to have to add Mackerel to that list, especially as my espresso was an impeccable example of its kind and our eventual bill came to a very affordable €69.20. Fantastic fish - although I wouldn't go for the eponymous choice next time - the perfect table and great service. Now, if they could just sort out the toilet situation...

€69.20 paid for a dish of olives, glass of sherry, two main courses, a bottle of wine and one expresso. Mackerel is on the first floor of Bewley's at 78 Grafton Street, Dublin 2. Phone: 01-6727719.
www.mackerel.ie

Posted by Caroline at 8:48 PM | Comments (0)

April 14, 2006

Books for Cooks

In London there is a wonderful shop called Books for Cooks. A bookshop, filled with - what else - cookbooks, it is situated at 4 Blenheim Crescent in Notting Hill and is the kind of place that Sunday supplements wax lyrical about. As does anyone who visits the shop. It is small, not so very wide, and has bookshelves from floor to ceiling, crammed with hundreds upon hundreds of books of amazing dishes, foods, ingredients and people. There is a cosy, albeit battered, couch in the middle of the floor, right between a piled-high table and a low shelf - just the place to sit and leaf through one of the many books that will take you on a journey to far off lands or reveal more about your own culinary surroundings. All this, and I haven't yet got to the best bit.

When you walk into the shop, intent though you may be on cookbooks, your nose might distract you, leading you down the back, past the shelves and couch - to the Books for Cooks test kitchen. It's where the cooks - Ursula Ferrigno (Bread, Trattoria), Eric Treuillé (Bread, Planet Organic - Naturally Good Food), Celia Brooks Brown (New Vegetarian, Vegetarian Foodscape) Jennifer Joyce (The Well Dressed Salad) - work through recipes from the plethora of cookbooks on the shelves.

Each day they cook a different simple and seasonal menu - soup, quiche or tart, maybe a desert or two, a few cakes - serving lunches, coffees and sweet things until, as they say themselves, everything runs out. And, with the smells of slow roasted tomatoes and Lemon Polenta Cake mingling with that of black inky print and new paper, everything does disappear quickly. Don't even bother on a Saturday, much easier to grab a table or a space during the week and give yourself time to savour some good seasonal food with, perhaps a glass of wine from owner Eric's own biodynamic vineyard in South West France.

If, as happened to me, you find yourself slightly dazed by all the cookbooks on offer, then you could always go the easy way out and pick up one of Books for Cooks own cookbooks. These are collections of the most requested and best-loved recipes from the cookbooks used in the test kitchen, tried out on very willing customers. Engaging and inspiring, the slim volumes are what Carolyn Hart's Cook's Books, while entertaining, tried to do but didn't quite achieve. Familiar writers like Nigel Slater, Darina Allen, Sybil Kapoor, Donna Hay are all invoked, along with some less usual names - Tessa Bramley (The Instinctive Cook), Patricia Lousada (Flavours of the Sun) and Camellia Panjabi (Fifty Great Curries of India). The first time I was there, got a copy of their Favourite Recipes from Books 1, 2 & 3. I have since acquired volumes 4 and 5 and, methinks, a trip to the shop to check if there are any new additions, is soon in order. Books for Cooks - heaven on earth!

Books for Cooks is at 4 Blenheim Crescent, Notting Hill, London, W11 1NN and - this is the important bit - is open Tuesday to Saturday from 10.00am to 6.00pm

Posted by Caroline at 9:42 PM | Comments (1)

March 6, 2006

An afternoon stop: Avoca Handweavers, Kilmacanogue

Saturday night dinner for friends staying over meant a late night, a not-so-hurried rise on Sunday morning and a similarly delayed breakfast. We badly needed to blow the cobwebs away so we drove down to Brittas Bay for a long walk in the surprisingly warm sunshine (and a brief snooze on the beach!). When we arrived back in the car about 3pm, lunchless, the Boyfriend and I were ravenous. Driving back to Dublin we took the opportunity to turn off the N11 into Kilmacanogue's branch of Avoca Handweavers. Although initially rather daunted by the long line of lunch-ing and afternoon tea-ing visitors, we were distracted by a blackboard full of intriguing choices. By the time we had decided on dishes, we were almost at the top of the queue and gazing at the generously stocked salad display. More decisions had to be made.

I plumped for the Danish Cream Cheese, Rocket and Sundried Tomato Roulade while the Boyfriend was swayed away from his initial choice of Thai Pork Curry with Basmati Rice by the sight of goat's cheese on top of the otherwise unexciting sounding Roast Vegetable Ciabatta. Both dishes came with three salads so, after a little heming and hawing, I got a serving of sweet grated carrots dotted with liberal amounts of poppy seeds, a pasta salad with cherry tomatoes and one of beans tossed in a creamy dressing. The Boyfriend took the tomato and basil salad, along with Avoca's justly famous broccoli, hazelnut and feta combination and some cumin and vegetable-laced couscous.

After that, it was a matter of trying to find a pair of seats. No easy task in a café packed with travelling families and little old ladies digging into tea and scones, but the turnover is, fortunately, pretty fast (as are the clearing staff) and we soon ended up with a wee table by the windows. The servings were large - as were the plates - and, despite a hunger born of sea-air, we barely managed to get through the platefuls of food in front of us. And the price for this largesse? €11.95 for my roulade and €10.95 for the Boyfriend's ciabatta. We couldn't even find room to sample any of the delicious deserts, biscuits and cakes on offer, all of which - as with the main dishes, soups and breads - are made on the premises with well sourced ingredients, something all too rare at cafés across the country.

Besides pandering to random day-trippers like ourselves, Avoca Handweaversat Kilmacanogue is a great facility for people driving regularly from and to Waterford and Wexford. Luckily Avoca have several other branches, including one on Dublin's Suffolk Street, although do I wonder if they would ever be interested in opening a decent eating station on the Dublin-Cork road?

Avoca Handweavers is located at Kilmacanogue in County Wicklow and several other locations across the country including Suffolk Street, Dublin and Moll's Gap on the Ring of Kerry.

Posted by Caroline at 8:55 AM | Comments (2)

February 11, 2006

Restaurant review: Hô Sen, Dublin

Before I left Ireland in 2004 I heard great reports about a new Vietnamese restaurant in Dublin's Temple Bar. As it happened, the Boyfriend and I were hoping to visit Vietnam while either journeying to or from New Zealand but this never happened. Since my return, the regular mentions of in the cookbooks, magazines and websites that I read have piqued my interest so I jumped at the chance to take the Boyfriend to dinner in Hô Sen last night.

The restaurant is right behind the Central Bank, in what was the wonderful but short-lived Panem restaurant (fortunately their cross-Liffey Panem café still continues to produce the most wonderful coffee, chocolate-stuffed brioche and filled focaccia breads at 21 Lower Ormond Quay). A freezing cold night at our backs made us glad to arrive at the welcoming restaurant and we were glad to settle ourselves indoors at a table simply dressed with both chopsticks and western cutlery, wine glasses and paper napkins. We were even happier with the large bowl of prawn crackers and Nuoc Cham, Vietnamese dipping sauce, that was on the table for us to nibble as we perused the menu. And there was a plenty for the perusal - 16 starters, salads and soups headed up an extensive menu that also included two dozen mains along with a selection of side dishes, rice and noodles.

A couple of glasses of iced water arrived on the table as we browsed - an appreciated gesture - and, when the waiter saw that we hadn't quite made up our minds, he took our drink order and left us to decide without pressure. Having loved the Huia Vineyard Gewürztraminer that we had with our Indochine meal in Christchurch, we went straight for the Kendermanns Gewürztraminer from Germany on the wine menu. It was a pleasant but unremarkable wine - we would have been better off with a few bottles from the boxes of Tiger Beer that were arriving out to a large neighbouring birthday party.

A shared starter of Goi Cuon, fresh rice paper rolls of shrimp, pork and rice noodles with garlic, chives, mint and lettuce, introduced us to some of the flavours of this cuisine. The four little rolls wrapped in translucent rice paper sat on the plate - but not for long - were light and zesty, the perfect antidote to a winter-time diet of soups and Indian curries.

My Bahn Xeo, described on the menu as a country pancake of rice flour, was much more substantial than I had expected. This thick crispy pancake was stuffed with an intensely savoury mixture of beanshoots, shrimp, pork and shallots and came with more of the garlicy Nuoc Cham dipping sauce. Our waiter, who, as it turned out, is co-owner and manager Tuan Nguyen, had seen me eating one of the sliced chillies that garnished the Goi Cuon so he thoughtfully brought me some sliced chilli and a delicious sweet chilli sauce so I could adjust my own heat levels. On the side I had an order of Gia Xao, a fresh Chinese-style wok fried beansprouts, spring onions, carrots and mushrooms.

The Boyfriend, meanwhile was tucking into what was surely the dish of the evening - Ca Kko To, clay pot-braised fish with cane sugar, pork marinade, ginger, lemongrass and Vietnamese herbs and spices. The fish, described as the waiter as a cross between cod and monkfish, was an unfamiliar one called (I think) tellapia. It was tender and meaty, the flesh infused with a deeply rich caramel and fish sauce that tasted so good that the Boyfriend started supping it directly from the serving dish.

As our orders arrived, we got a few lessons in Vietnamese eating from Tuan. He first pointed out that the custom in Vietnam was to put the dishes in the centre of the table to share (like I was going to let the Boyfriend get away with eating the Ca Kko To by himself!) and then he explained how we should eat the fish and the dish of steamed rice that we had ordered to accompany it. Using a spoon, he took a piece of the fish and some sauce, picked up some rice on the same spoon, then held it to my mouth. Although I was temped to ask Tuan to sit at the table and just feed me for the rest of the evening, I resisted and got back to my chopsticks. Keeping him at our table might have been easier than feeding myself as, for some reason, the sticks kept sliding through my butter-fingers and they had to be replaced by an ever-helpful Tuan several times during the meal.

After all that variety of flavours and textures, we couldn't even look at the desert menu and we were happy to finish off with a glass of port each and a superb espresso for me. Between Tuan's attention and the wonderfully bold and different food that filled our table, I forgot the cold Irish night outside and my fellow Dublin diners inside, taken away on a raft of lemongrass, Thai basil and ginger to the heat and hospitality of Vietnam. More delicate than Chinese food and more subtle than the best of Thai cuisine, my introduction to Vietnamese cooking - and to Hô Sen - was a resounding success. We will definitely be back, and we won't be alone.

Dinner cost an eminently reasonable €70 for a shared starter, two main courses, a vegetable side dish, a bowl of steamed rice and a bottle of wine. Hô Sen is at 6 Cope Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2. Phone: 01 6718181 Fax: 01 6718181.

Posted by Caroline at 9:44 AM | Comments (2)

December 21, 2005

Ladies who lunch @ Café Paradiso, Cork

After my appetite had been well whetted by Denis Cotter's A Paradiso Year: Autumn and Winter Cooking, I decided that it was time to return to Café Paradiso itself and last weekend I went down to Cork. All my nights were tied up but Saturday lunchtime was designated Paradiso-time and who better to share it than my Sister, who lives in Cork, and the Canadian friend that I met in New Zealand. Both the girls are waitresses - one in the nearby Liberty Grill, the other in Cork's famous Jacobs on the Mall - so Café Paradiso wasn't getting the most uncritical audience.

As we arrived one-by-one and hadn't seen each other in a while, there was lots to catch up on so we were glad to be given a breathing space between the arrival of the menus and the taking of our order. We shared a starter of House Breads with Olive Oil, Cannellini Bean & Herb Dip and Marinated Olives. For mains, the Sister picked Leek, Roasted Roots & Gabriel Cheese Gratin with Hazelnut Crust, Tarragon Cream and Braised Cannellini Beans while the Canadian and I chose Lime-Grilled Haloumi with Harissa Sauce and a Warm Salad of Couscous, Roast Shallots, Green Beans, Chickpeas & Chermoula.

Bridget Healy, the co-owner of Café Paradiso, is from New Zealand, a fact which is evident from the first page of the wine list. There was an abundance of familiar vineyard names - Seifried, Cloudy Bay, Brookfields - and even my beloved Pegasus Bay Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon was represented. We eventually chose the St Clair Sauvignon Blanc 2004, a fresh and classy mouthful which was a happy match with our food.

The Haloumi was suitably styrofoam-like and deliciously salty. I really enjoyed the way it contrasted with the couscous, which was tossed with roasted shallots and my favourite chickpeas. The drizzle of chermoula on the plate was too quickly absorbed by the couscous but a few slices of pickled lemon on the side kept the dish lively. Although this dish was satisfying - so much so that I couldn't finish it - I think that the Sister won in the best dinner stakes. Mouth-wateringly good cannellini beans, which the Canadian and I started snaffling straight away, surrounded the gratin itself which was full of rich textures and flavours.

Comfortably replete after such good food and wine, we fell at the last fence and even the Lemon Tart with Praline Ice Cream couldn't tempt us. We did, however, manage to share a handful of rich handmade chocolate truffles, accompanying them with a couple of coffees and a very decent pot of real peppermint tea.

It was a leisurely lunch, staring at 1.30pm and winding up around two hours later, but at no time did we feel rushed or under pressure to finish up. The one odd note was the Sister's gratin arriving on the table before we had finished our plate of bread and dips but, being hungry, we weren't unduly phased. The waitstaff were efficient - at no time did our water jug run empty - but relaxed, becoming speedily helpful when I asked for the bill while the others were briefly absent from the table.

Our meal - a shared starter, three mains, chocolates, two coffees, a tea and a bottle of wine - came to the grand total of €81. Fabulously enjoyable and imaginative food at a reasonable price. I won't let a decade pass before my next visit.

Café Paradiso is situated at 16 Lancaster Quay in Cork. Phone: 021 4277939.

Posted by Caroline at 12:06 PM | Comments (0)

November 29, 2005

Bad coffee at Verona

Last Friday night in Dublin was miserable. Cold and raining, it was a night for staying by the fire but, with an impromptu cousin get-together happening, we were all out in town looking for a place to find a bit of food. A booking in Frank's Bar and Restaurant had to be abandoned when our party acquired another two people so these hungry wanderers made their way to the new food centre of George's Street. With a variety of restaurants lined up on both sides of the road, there had to be a place willing to take the six of us.

We ended up in Verona, an Italian restaurant long resident on Georges Street but which has undergone a swish new transformation in the last twelve months. Although the room itself was lovely and warm, a nasty draft persisted in following us in from the frequently opened door. But, at that stage in the evening, it really was any port in a storm and sometimes the restaurant doesn't matter half as much as the company - and there was no denying the quality of that!

The waitstaff were attentive and efficient while the food - pasta and pizzas - was a little pedestrian but where things started to take a turn for the worse was with the presentation of desert menus. The only deserts that they had on offer was that range of frozen ones which, as a teenager I thought was the height of sophistication, but now makes me wonder if the rest of my meal also made its way to the table from the freezer. We decided to pass on desert and went straight for coffee. As soon as my espresso arrived I could smell the burnt coffee beans. It was undrinkable. Not wanting to create a fuss - this seems to happen a lot to me around coffee! - I didn't, although I should have, mentioned it to the waitstaff. The pair who got regular coffee fared no better but the three who decided on Irish and Baileys coffees were more than happy with their choice, the alcohol masking any burnt flavour. But it was disappointing. In any restaurant, but especially an Italian one, there's no excuse for bad coffee.

I've learned my lesson. Future Friday nights in Dublin will definitely involve being more organised with group numbers and bookings!

Verona, George's Street, Dublin 2. Phone (01) 6793060

Posted by Caroline at 11:05 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

July 15, 2005

Wandering in New Zealand

Those of you who are regular readers may have noticed that it's been quiet on Bibliocook over the last week or so. The reason for this is because I have recently returned from a road trip up the East Coast of New Zealand's South Island with my mother and aunt who were visiting from Ireland.

After a few nights in Christchurch where we introduced them to New Zealand foods like silverbeet (in the form of a Pasta and Silverbeet Bake), lamb (Braised Lamb Shanks with Chickpea Mash) and kiwifruit (Apple and Kiwifruit Crumble - the crumble obsession continues!) while keeping them topped up on Irish foodstuffs (Brown Soda Bread, Ham and Pea Soup), it was time to hit the road. Just because we were touring didn't mean that we had no time for food. On the contrary. Food assumes an even greater importance when you're on the road for several hours a day and we weren't even an hour out of Christchurch when we stopped off at the Brew Moon Brewery and Café for tasty refreshments.

We spent a couple of nights at a bach at the township of Oaro near Kaikoura with the aforementioned Ham and Pea Soup, supplemented by the traditional New Zealand fish and chips on the beach. Leaving Kaikoura and travelling north, we kept our eyes open for the only building on the right hand side of the road - The Store at Kekerengu. On last year's miserable Christmas Eve, after a rude awakening in our Kaikoura hostel, the Boyfriend and I had had a large morale-boosting cooked breakfast here. This time round, even though it is mid-winter here, the weather was warm enough for us to take our food outside and eat in the sun, although it wouldn't be any kind of hardship to eat indoors in the airy rustic surrounds of the refurbished dining area. Although The Store is just off State Highway 1, you're a world away from any kind of driving stress with great food, good coffee and a view to die for. It wasn't too long after breakfast but we couldn't pass up a piece of the Kiwi classic Ham and Egg Pie to share. Always good to have something sweet with the coffee/tea so we also chose a Tan Slice (like a shortbread-caramel-chocolate layered Millionaire Square but without the chocolate).

That wasn't all the eating done for the day as we decided to stop at the Mud House in Marlborough for some wine tasting and purchasing. Although it's rather like coals to Newcastle, turning up at a New Zealand house with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, we still chose the 2004 Marlborough White Swan Reserve Sauvignon Blanc - and it was well worth it. After my mother had been tempted into another tasting and was considering buying a bottle of Prenzel's Butterscotch Schnapps, I judged it timely to adjourn to the MudHouse Village Café. More tea and coffee were consumed, this time with the addition of a very tasty Venison and Merlot Pie - never let it be said that I spared myself when trying to give my family a wholehearted New Zealand culinary experience!

We stayed at the very lovely Garden Motel in Havelock for a night before continuing on to Nelson where we had time for a wander around the Saturday market and its foodie delights (harissa paste from Hellish Relish, Dutch apple doughnuts Olie Bollen, beautifully packaged dried lemon rind, yet another bag of Braeburn apples) before staying with the Boyfriend’s family for a couple of nights. When it came to food, we were spoiled there as the Boyfriend's mother cooked us several feasts, introducing the Irish visitors to roasted kumara (a starchy Maori vegetable rather like potato) and pumpkin, neither of which I've yet been brave enough to cook. We also travelled to their bach by Lake Rotoiti for a night, once again supplied with food courtesy of the Boyfriend's mother (a delicious Chicken and Asparagus Soup and Lasagne) which went down very well after a few walks which, I can tell you, we needed at that stage!

Although my mother and aunt only had a short time to spend in New Zealand, we certainly managed to eat our way around the small portion of the South Island that we visited - proof that there's plenty of good eating in New Zealand, wherever you may roam.

Posted by Caroline at 5:19 PM | Comments (3)

July 10, 2005

Brew Moon Brewery and Café

When you're driving the long distances that are necessary to get anywhere in New Zealand, good quality rest stops, with coffee, cakes - and clean toilets - become very important. That's why it breaks my heart to discover one so close to my current hometown of Christchurch. I've often spotted the enticing entrance of the Brew Moon Brewery and Café (situated about 50km from Christchurch) but, as it is normally too close to either the start or end of a journey it has never been a place for stopping. This week the prolonged start of a road trip with my visiting mother and aunt (nicknamed Thelma and Louise by my sister) gave me an opportunity to sample the facilities.

By the time we reached Brew Moon, it was already time for a toilet stop and, naturally, it would be rude not to sample the local delicacies. Alas, being the designated driver - and the fact that it was only midday - meant that the brew side of things could not be tested. Instead we opted for coffee and tea, ordering a blueberry muffin, piece of carrot cake and that Kiwi classic, a Ginger Gem.

Despite the fact that it was midweek, there were another three tables occupied, keeping the lone waitress busy and delaying the arrival of our order but as we were in no hurry, having plenty of family news to catch up on, this was not a problem. And we weren't complaining when the cakes arrived. Fresh and delicious, my Gem was a little larger than usual but, shared among three, it didn't last long. The muffin had the crunchy top of baking that had recently left the oven and the carrot cake was an shining example of its kind. Pieces were swapped, crumbs swept up and fingers licked. The bathrooms didn't leave the side down, making up in size for what they may have lacked in numbers on a busy day. On this quiet Wednesday so there were no queueing problems.

Brew Moon Brewery and Café is a good place to start your journey or to revive spirits before you reach home. Well worth visiting for the range and quality of sweet treats.

The Brew Moon Brewery and Café is located at 150 Ashford Rd (SH1). Phone: 03 314 8030

Posted by Caroline at 5:40 PM | Comments (0)

June 28, 2005

Breakfast at Formerly The Blackball Hilton

We weren't very well organised for the last bank holiday weekend so it was Sunday morning before one of the Boyfriend's friends and his girlfriend came over and we tried to figure out where to go for the night. Despite fears that all accommodation would be booked solid for the weekend, a quick scoot through the Rough Guide to New Zealand and a few calls later and we had rooms for the night at Formerly The Blackball Hilton in the wee town of Blackball on the South Island's West Coast.

The historic hotel - it dates back to the early part of the last century - used to be known simply as The Blackball Hilton but, when the representatives of a certain Hilton hotel chain discovered the place, it wasn't long before lawyer's letters started flying Blackball direction. Showing a healthy disregard for American bullsh*t, the owners put a Formerly in front of their name and carried on as before. I'm not sure how long they'll get away with it but their stand is a typical West Coast one.

After a long afternoon spent in the car and waiting for the Boyfriends to finish their climbing on Castle Hill, the road to Blackball seemed to take forever but we were no sooner in the town than we came across the large looming presence of Formerly The Blackball Hilton. Through the front door we came to a large entrance hall, papered on one side with lots of local notices and flyers for events in the district - evidentially Formerly The Blackball Hilton is a popular place with the locals, always a good sign. Collecting our room keys from the bar, we went upstairs to discover just how strange and quirky the place was.

The rooms were all colour-coordinated in a very strange way. Ours was purple and a particularly lurid green, complete with family-type pictures on the walls and dressing gowns in case you felt the need to wander down the corridor to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Once you switched off the main light and turned on the bedside lamp, thereby tuning down the alarming colours, the room was cosy, clean and, most importantly in New Zealand at this time of the year, warm.

As most of our party were hungry, we went downstairs to the pub, which was warmed by a roaring fire, and got ourselves a seat in one of the booths on the side of the room, settling ourselves at a table covered with a cheerful red and white gingham tablecloth. I wasn't hungry but the food ordered by the other three - Blackball Salami Company sausages and mash, fish and chips, roast of the day - seemed to go down well, and I have to say that I had no complaints about the rather strong gin and tonics that arrived from the bar.

Breakfast, which the men were already eyeing up at dinnertime, was a star turn from this odd little place. One of our group had enjoyed sausages from the Blackball Salami Company the previous night and we were delighted to see that company's sausages and black pudding featured on the breakfast plate along with bacon, tomatoes and scrambled egg. The egg, as is the case every where I've had scramble for breakfast, was overdone and rather solid but copious amounts of wholemeal toast and my own cafetiere of good strong coffee ensured that I wasn't complaining. The fact that it was a one-woman show - waitressing, cooking and totting up the bills - meant that there wouldn't be any point either.

Breakfast was accompanied by the hotel terrier, who sat at our feet and sometimes on our laps, and beautiful silver-grey cat who jumped onto the seat behind us to look over our shoulders. It didn't bother us - in fact we welcomed the attention - but I could not see it going down well with anyone worried overmuch about germs.

In an effort to settle the huge breakfast, and because it was dark when we arrived, we went for a wander around Blackball by daylight. This is rugged mining country and the working class village was a coal mining community in the early part of the century, but the mine ceased production in the 1960s. Blackball is also noted for being one of the early hotbeds of socialism - and wouldn't you know there was an Irishman involved. In 1908, first generation Irish immigrant Pat Hickey led the famous Blackball coal miner's strike. Formerly The Blackball Hilton has a formidable supply of books and newspaper cuttings on the history of the town - something to get stuck in to if the weather on the West Coast is as wet as generally advertised.

We had hoped to visit the award-winning Blackball Salami Company factory but, this being a Bank Holiday Monday, the doors were firmly shut. Fortunately the owner of the hotel had a couple of salami in the fridge so we didn't come away with our hands hanging. We took the Original Garlic, a delicious non-fatty, richly flavoured salami, and have been enjoying it in sandwiches, on crackers and with pasta ever since.

Besides the historic aspect to the area, there's not much to see in the town itself but Formerly The Blackball Hilton is well worth a detour if you are travelling down New Zealand's West Coast. It is also worth making sure that the Blackball Salami Company is open when you visit. Otherwise, ask the lady behind the bar - she may even have a few to sell herself!

Formerly the Blackball Hilton is in Blackball. Phone: 03 732 4705 or 0800 4 BLACKBALL

Posted by Caroline at 9:03 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 13, 2005

An afternoon interlude: Riccarton House Café

It's not very often we go out for Sunday lunch but the fact that I had a voucher for the Riccarton House Café in Christchurch made our minds up for us last weekend. The café only does lunch but that's well worth the hour-long walk from our house.

It has the perfect setting. Riccarton House is a heritage attraction, a splendid example of Victorian and Edwardian housebuilding - complete with plenty of decapitated stags in the entrance hallway - and it is set in a 12-hectare reserve of ancient native forest and parkland. The homestead was the home of Canterbury's pioneering Deans family for 91 years and, when you arrive, you almost feel like you're walking into a private home.

The café is situated off the oak-panelled main entrance hallway in what might have been the Deans family sitting room. The tables and chairs are all solid and dark, as befits the space, but it does leave visitors with an absence of manoeuvring space. There are also tables outside on the veranda, overlooking the river but, despite the sunshine, it was too cold to sit there for long and we moved ourselves indoors before our meal arrived.

The menu isn't large but it is well balanced and there are plenty of choices. We settled on the pizza of the day with a topping of broccoli, blue cheese, caramelised onions and chicken. As we waited for our food, I hungrily observed delicious-looking dishes of goats cheese parcels, huge fluffy pancakes (they also serve a breakfast menu) and a pork roast arriving at nearby tables. Dishes to return for, perhaps. As it turned out we were more than happy with our pizza. While the base looked like it may have been made from wholemeal flour, it was thin and crispy enough to overcome this faux pas. Before it arrived, the Boyfriend had been bemoaning our lack of foresight in not ordering a serving of wedges as he saw them carried past us, but there were no complaints of hunger after we finished the pizza.

We did have enough room for desert so, although the Boyfriend was thinking about getting one of the scones resplendent on a table nearby, I managed to steer him towards a moist orange and poppyseed cake instead, which was served with yoghurt. Only after I promised to make a batch of scones at home! As for myself, I was seduced by the promise of a crème brulee. Although I have read a lot about these little French deserts and know how to make them - in theory at least - I had never actually tasted one. The waitress brought it over, apologising that the chef was only getting the hang of the blowtorch and sure enough there were little burnt patches on the caramel. Fortunately this only accentuated the experience of crisp caramel and light creamy custard. Not only did I finish it in double quick time, but the Boyfriend caught me using my finger to ensure that I hadn't let any custard behind. A couple of coffees and we were ready to rise. It was just as well that there was an hour's walk ahead of us!

Without the voucher the meal would have cost $34 for a shared main course, two deserts and two coffees.

Riccarton House Café is at 16 Kahu Road, Christchurch. Phone: 03 341 1018

Posted by Caroline at 5:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 1, 2005

Restaurant review: Simo's Moroccan Restaurant

The days when you get a call from your Boyfriend saying "don't plan anything for dinner tonight. I want to take you out" don't come too often so, no matter what you've been thinking about cooking, it's time to put it aside. Especially when you discover that you're going to New Zealand's only Moroccan restaurant - Simo's in Christchurch. I've been a fan of Moroccan flavours for a long time and Simo's didn’t disappoint.

We were booked in for an early dinner at 6.30pm and, when we arrived, were the only people in the place. But, rather than making us feel in the way as can be the case sometimes, the staff really made an effort to put us at ease, showing us to our table in the warmly coloured rooms, dispensing menus and tempting us with the idea of a Moroccan cocktail. Cocktails are going to be my downfall in New Zealand, I can tell. I never can say no. This time I was glad that I hadn't even tried to. Unfortunately I can't tell you too much about them as the mists of time and, perhaps, alcohol, have dimmed my memories of what they contained but let it suffice to say that if you're offered a cocktail in Simo's, don't turn it down.

As little cards on the tables and the waitstaff explained, Simo's had won the Meadow Mushrooms Grande Entree Award of Excellence 2004 so we decided to see what all the fuss was about and share their entry, Trio of Meadow Mushrooms, for a starter. The Trio consisted of an Olive Oil preserved White Button Mushroom, Charmoulla Marinated Swiss Brown Mushroom and an Oven baked Portabello Mushroom. Mushrooms in any guise, as far as I'm concerned, are a good idea but my heart sank when the dish arrived at the table. It was a carefully layered and plated arrangement but, I thought, smacked more of style than substance. By the first mouthful I had forgotten such traitorous thoughts for this was a well-balanced dish, with different pungent and strong flavours in each bite. Before long we had managed to make our way through the Trio and were awaiting our main courses. The Boyfriend had chosen Lamb Tagine to put his fears about tagines to rest, after having a few greasy experiences in Morocco last summer. Judging by the speed it disappeared there was little comparison between the 'real' Moroccan experience and the Moroccan restaurant option! I had the fish of the day which was baked with chermoulla and served with one of the ingredients that I've been noticing lately - Israeli couscous, which has grains much larger than the normal Moroccan couscous. After tasting it in Simo's I promptly bought a bag of it the next time I saw it on display. Time to figure out how to cook it soon, methinks!

Although we didn't really feel that we needed desert, the Boyfriend, still having flashbacks to his time in Morocco, was tempted by the Moroccan Sweet Mint Tea. As this could come with a selection of pastries, I didn't hesitate to encourage him in his choice and this proved to be the perfect ending to a truly wonderful and relaxing meal.

Simo's is located at 114 City Mall, Cashel Street in Christchurch. Phone: 03 377 5001

Posted by Caroline at 9:10 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 9, 2005

Restaurant review: Indochine, Christchurch

Moving to a new city in a new country is not exactly the time for extravagant dinners à deux. When you're looking for work and trying to scrape the money together to rent and furnish a flat, it seems like wanton extravagance to splash out on sumptuous meals - unless, of course, your Bibliofemme friends club together to give you and your Boyfriend a voucher for a night of cocktails and food at Christchurch's Indochine on Cambridge Terrace. What better way to introduce yourself to a new city than with a meal in a restaurant you've never heard of?

First impressions were good - the elegant décor has a strong Eastern influence with black lacquered screens cutting the room into cosy, low-lit sections. The fact that our first cocktails took a while to arrive didn't start the night off on the best footing but this minor annoyance was quickly assuaged by the quality of the drinks. Indochine prides itself on its cocktail menu and there's plenty of choice here for the connoisseur. Even though we couldn't quite identify the contents of the Boyfriend's Mai Tai (other than rum), it had a kick like a mule and my Tropical Fizz wasn't much lighter so the alcohol, coupled with hunger, meant that a good mood prevailed ever before we set eyes on the food menu.

Indochine has an eclectic take on East-West fusion cooking with Dim Sum openers moving confidently from Grilled Fish Cakes with Cucumber Relish to Crunchy Oregano Chicken and a menu that incorporates French techniques and Chinese ingredients. The restaurant is peopled by friendly and mostly efficient staff who helpfully explain the menu after seeing your bewildered looks. It's not as complicated as it seems at first glance, however, once it is explained that starters and mains are distinguished by price rather than classification.

Seated in a private little alcove, it took us more than a little while to decide what to eat but finally we ended up with the waitress-recommended Sung Choi Bao of Pork to open the food section of the evening. Richly savoury pork mince, cooked with mushrooms and little slices of Chinese sausage, was served with lettuce leaves on the side for scooping and wrapping. The fresh, crunchy lettuce contrasted perfectly with the tasty filling and, like all great starters, it tantalised without being too filling, stimulating our appetites for the feast to follow. As the cocktails had quickly disappeared, we accompanied our starter with a bottle of Huia Vineyard Gewurztraminer which was pungent and strong enough to stand up against all the spices and strong flavours of our meal.

The Boyfriend's main course - Seared Tuna Steak with Eschallot Relish and Chilli - looked gorgeous but I only got a small taste of his beautifully cooked and Asian flavoured tuna as I was struggling with own dish of Grilled Teriyaki Marinated Ribeye Steak with Scallops. It's not that it wasn't delicious, but after living on camping food for the previous month I was a little daunted when I saw the large portion of bloody steak landing in front of me. It looked like it had only had a limited relationship with any kind of heat and, although I do like my steak somewhat bloody, this did exacerbate the whole meatiness of the dish. I had not been asked how I would like it cooked - bloody, or not at all, I presume. Despite the fact that I was full at little more than halfway though, I had a good stab at it while the Boyfriend got occasional chunks landed on his plate. He wasn't complaining, even if I did reserve the sweet, crunchy-soft deep-fried scallops that accompanied the dish for myself.

By the time we got through the meat mountain, no one was in the mood for desert and even a Chocolate Tart with Vanilla Sauce could not tempt me. What did, though, was the desert cocktail list. The Boyfriend decided on the Raspberry Tart while I chose the Chocolate Martini - as long as I get my fix, I don't care if it comes in solid or liquid form. I think I got the better deal this time as there was too much body in the Raspberry Tart, a judicious mixture of raspberries, ice cream and lime juice, while the bitter sweet Chocolate Martini was pure heaven in a glass.

Indochine is not an every week kind of place but it certainly hits the spot when you - or some friends - want to treat yourself. It's the perfect setting for a romantic dinner for two or a slightly more boisterous Sex and the City type girly gathering. Just watch out for those cocktails...

The meal cost $169.50 for one shared dim sum, two main courses with a vegetable side dish, four cocktails and a bottle of wine and Indochine is situated at 209 Cambridge Terrace, Central City, Christchurch. Phone: 03 365 7323

Posted by Caroline at 12:55 PM | Comments (0)